In His Own Time
by 2ns
Summary: Sokka intercepts Hakoda before he confronts Aang and Katara at the Moon Festival about the status of their relationship and explains how deeply connected they are. This fits about a year before the beginning of "My Heart in My Pocket" and sets up the confrontation that ultimately will lead to their betrothal. Kataang Week 2017 early post, unconditional prompt.


I own no part of Avatar: Fanfiction only.

In His Own Time

Hakoda sat at the end of the table fuming. For six years, he'd had scores of offers for Katara's hand, and for six years, she had brought Aang home with her for every wedding, every festival, and each time, they seemed more familiar with one another. All through dinner, he'd watched them, and he'd watched the other members of the tribe watch them. He'd watched Katara coax him into trying dish after dish, her chopsticks sometimes carrying bites from her own plate to his lips. He saw the way her entire body leaned into his, the way Aang turned his face into her ear to whisper to her, the way she smiled when he spoke to her. He saw the way Aang pressed her body into his when they danced in the council hall, one hand just below the small of her back, and how he gathered her hand to his chest over his heart, like it was precious. He saw the way she swung her body as they swayed, teasing him with her nearness, her loose hair tumbling down her back, and the hungry look she gave back to him when their eyes met, both of them oblivious to the world around them. Worse, he heard the malicious whispers that the members of his tribe barely made an effort to hide, full of innuendo and scandal, suggesting that chief's daughter's virtue had been stolen by the Avatar . . . and that they didn't even have the decency to try to hide it.

The council hall was mostly quiet now, punctuated only by the fussing of overtired children, the scrape of chopsticks in bowls, the rustle of fur parkas. Most of the tribe was assembled in the council hall for the Moon Festival listening to the elders take turns telling stories, ancient tales of spirits and heroes that imparted the values and history of their people to the children drowsing on their parents' laps. The fire light danced across the faces of people he had known his entire lives—people he had fought for, men bearing scars from battles he'd led, women whose husbands had fallen fighting to support the Avatar on the Day of Black Sun.

Katara and Aang sat on a rabbit-seal pelt between two raging fireplaces, almost hidden in the velvety shadows cast by the raging flames. Aang's back was propped against the wall, and Katara had snuggled into his chest between his legs, her hand lazily stroking the length of his thigh. Hakoda saw Aang draw the back of his fingers down the side of Katara's face, allowing the thumb to caress the side of her neck, stopping just above Katara's necklace. Katara reached up, lacing her fingers in to his, and when she looked up at him, the flickering light and dancing shadows played off the contours of their faces as Aang dipped his head to kiss her, his slow kiss deepening into something more passionate.

Hakoda had had enough. He rose abruptly from his bench, but a heavy hand fell immediately on his shoulder.

"Yeah, you don't want to do that." Sokka took Hakoda's elbow and guided him in the other direction.

Annoyed at the interruption, Hakoda asked, "I don't want to do what?"

Sokka flicked his gaze from Hakoda and back to Katara and Aang pointedly. "Leave them be. The man damn near died two days ago in an ambush by some Ozai supporters, and they barely got out. To say the least, Katara's emotions are running high, and if you confront them, Katara's likely to explode in the middle of the council hall."

Hakoda scowled. He knew better than to tempt Katara's temper. "I don't like it. Practically every man of marriageable age has asked for her hand, and she won't accept any of them. She seems set on the one man who _won't_ propose." Hakoda crossed his arms and leaned into the wall at the back of the hall.

Sokka glanced back at Aang. "He will when the time is right . . . or he won't if there's never adequate peace between the nations. He carries the weight of the Avatar's office and won't put down his responsibilities. _You_ should understand what that feels like." Sokka ignored Hakoda's glare, shrugging. "There are precisely three things in Aang's world: Katara, the ground beneath her feet, and the air she breathes. Everything else fits between them. Aang feels personally responsible for the suffering caused by the Fire Nation. I don't think he will ever settle down and start a family until he can be sure that the world will be safe for their children."

Hakoda snorted in derision. "At this rate, they won't marry until they are Kanna's age. Katara could have a good life here . . . I don't understand why she hangs on to him when he has no intention of offering her an honorable marriage. This . . . dalliance . . . sullies her honor and our names."

"Katara will never leave him . . . in her heart, I don't think it matters to her anymore if they ever marry. I'm sure she thinks about it and wants it, but not having it doesn't change how she feels about him. She accepts who he is and accepts her place with him, whatever form it takes."

" _I_ don't accept it. He's preventing her from living the rest of her life."

Hakoda started to walk away, but Sokka grabbed him roughly and drug him back. "He _is_ the rest of her life. If you confront them, you will alienate _her_. It will drive him away in shame, and it will break her heart. She will never leave him—he _needs_ her at his side, and it's the only place she knows who she is."

" _Then why won't he propose?"_ Hakoda's furious hiss carried, and several heads turned their way. The bystanders guessed what the chief was arguing with his son about, and they smirked knowingly and elbowed one another, laughing.

"If he proposes, you can say no, and that will be the end of it. I don't think he will risk losing her." Sokka nodded in their direction. Both of Aang's arms were now wrapped tightly around Katara, her head resting on his shoulder and her body cradled in his arms. They swayed slightly in time as Pakku sang an ancient ballad from the North in the center of the hall. From across the room, they could see her smile as they talked, and when she reached up a hand to cup Aang's face, he had closed his eyes, content. "If you push this, _you_ will lose her."

Sokka continued, "She has pulled him back from the edge of death more times that she can probably count, and she knows that one day, he may not come back, but she stays. She herself has escaped the spirits' call way more times than _you_ know about, but she stays. There's no rest and no reward for being with him—it's a lot of long days of negotiating and running and fighting, but she stays. He has nothing—no family, no nation, no home, but she stays. _Believe me_ , she sees the sly looks the women give her and hears the nasty comments about Aang and her honor . . . some of the women in the tribe go out of their way to be particularly cruel . . . but she stays. I think she knows that he may never propose, and that her hand may never rock a cradle with his child, but she stays. Believe me when I tell you that there is no condition under which she would willingly leave him . . . nothing he could do that would alter in the slightest her devotion to him." Sokka looked directly into Hakoda's eyes. "Honestly, Dad, he _deserves_ her devotion—every decision he makes is about Katara first and foremost, and she is what he lives for.

"Aang would walk away completely broken if you confront them—he loves her enough that he will leave her if you tell him it would make her happy or be in her best interest. But if you think that Katara would ever consider taking another man while Aang still draws breath," Sokka shook his head, "you don't know her at all. I don't honestly think she would take another man even if Aang _did_ stop breathing.

"You weren't there when he died in Ba Sing Se, but I was. If she hadn't been able to bring him back, _she_ wouldn't have survived it. If she had, she would have spent what remained of her life hunting Azula to the ends of the earth. Trust me, you don't want to do this. Let Aang come to you in his own time."

When Sokka turned to look at them again, Katara's eyes were closed and she had reached an arm up, her fingers curled around the back of Aang's neck. She was drowsing in contentment, a sleepy smile on her lips, basking in the warmth of the fire and the comfort of her beloved's arms. Sokka smiled. "Ignore the whispers and the jealous complaints of the tribe—it's not their concern. Let them be happy."


End file.
